


young and beautiful

by SxnsaStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Femslash, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14363991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SxnsaStark/pseuds/SxnsaStark
Summary: Myrcella's home life is messy on every level. Not that Arya minds all that much.





	young and beautiful

Arya is carefully reversing down the driveway, paying particular attention to the proximity of her car to her father's. Neither her temperament nor her wallet can afford scratching the side of Ned Stark's beloved Mitsubishi.

She's so caught up in her driving that a sharp tapping on the passenger window startles her so much she nearly crashes right into the fence.

"What the fuck, Rickon?" she yells, glaring at her youngest brother who doesn't seem to give a shit that he nearly gave her a heart attack that brought her to the brink of death.

Rickon flings open the passenger door. "Are you going to Myrcella's?" he asks, poking his head in, his stupid curls sticking out in ever direction.

"None of your business," she snaps, but when he makes it clear he isn't leaving, she sighs.

"Yeah, I am. You want a lift?"

"Yeah," Rickon says, no word of thanks to be heard. Typical.

They drive in an icy silence for a few minutes, before Rickon starts fiddling with her radio.

"Christ Arya. Your music taste is tragic."

Arya rolls her eyes. "Big talk from the guy who locked himself up in his room and listened to Morrissey for three hours straight."

"That was one time," Rickon retorts, a tinge of red spreading rapidly across his cheeks.

Arya laughs. They drive in quiet for another few minutes, this time a more companionable silence before Arya speaks up. "How are things anyway? With you and Tommen?"

Rickon shrugs. "Fine. I mean. Well. You know how it is."

Arya knows all too well. Between Robert Baratheon being a raging homophobe and Cersei Lannister having a personal vendetta against the Stark family, Rickon's relationship with Tommen endures more or less the same pressures as Arya and Myrcella's.

"Yeah," she says. "I know how it is."

She pulls up the driveway to Robert's house. Ever since the long overdue divorce, the Baratheon children have divided their time between Cersei and Robert, each parent as toxic as the other as far as Arya is concerned. She knocks on the house door politely and waits on the doorstep, forcing Rickon to do the same. She sighs at his impatience.

"Do you normally just barge right in?"

"Nah," Rickon shrugs. "Usually I just shimmy the gutter and climb in through his window."

"Real mature, Rickon."

Rickon scoffs. "It's efficient, that's what it is. You're starting to sound exactly like Sansa these days, you know that?"

Before Arya can indignantly reply to that completely baseless accusation, the door is inched open, and a strong stench of beer floats out.

Robert squints at them. "Arry and Robin," he slurs. "Here to play with your friends?"

Robert evidently hasn't learned their names since they were last here, not even a month ago. Arya supposes it's a bit much to expect him to remember they aren't eight years old. Arya is almost nineteen and Rickon is recently fifteen but it's hard to imagine Robert having the mental capacity to bring that to mind.

"Hello Mr. Baratheon," she says politely, discretely stepping on Rickon's toes so he echoes her. "Are Myrcella and Tommen here?"

Robert blinks and takes a couple of seconds to respond, as if his beer sunken brain is struggling to comprehend her words. "Homework," he declares eventually. "Both upstairs doing homework. You can run along and join them. I dunno where Joffrey is though ... "

Arya decides not to remind him that Joffrey left for college at the start of the year, and even then she would sooner hang out with the highest class of poisonous Dornish snakes that with Joffrey. "Thank you," she says politely and delicately side steps him, pulling Rickon along with her.

Rickon mumbles a half assed thank you to Robert's back but pulls a face when he and Arya are safely out of earshot. "I hate that drunken dickhead," he mutters, pulling a face. "I can't believe Dad used to be friends with that piece of shit."

"Different times," Arya replies. "He was a different man back then." She pauses. "According to Dad anyway."

Rickon obviously isn't impressed but waves her goodbye and makes his way to the room end of the hallway, where if the melancholic violin music is anything to go by, Tommen is practising a recital.

Arya takes a right to a room from which a familiar scent of flowery perfume greets her. She knocks on the door.

"One minute dad," calls back a familiar voice, soft and lilting, and forcing a warm feeling in the pit of Arya's stomach.

"It's not your dad," Arya responds gently. "It's me."

Within seconds the door is flung open and there is Myrcella, radiant and beaming and easily the most beautiful thing Arya has ever seen.

"Arya," she says fondly, bringing a hand to rest against Arya's waist. "I didn't realise you'd be over so early."

Arya shrugs. "I got off work early so I'm a bit ahead of schedule." She smirks. "You okay with that?"

Myrcella laughs. "More than okay. How is work anyway? How's Gendry doing?"

Arya works at a garage with Myrcella's half brother, Gendry who for all his teasing, is actually a pretty cool guy. The work itself isn't the worse. It's boring but it'll get her through her year out before she has to decide what college she wants to go to and what she wants to do with the rest of her life. Myrcella's got it all planned out of course, right down to the on-campus parking spot she'll use at the med school she'll be attending next year.

"It's not too bad," she says to Myrcella. "Work's work. How's studying coming along?"

Myrcella's clutches her heart dramatically and sprawls across her bed in a mock faint. "Horrendous. These A-levels will be the death of me."

Arya laughs. "Only the good die young, baby."

Myrcella mockingly scowls. "All the more reason for me to die. And don't 'baby girl' me. I'm only a year behind you."

Arya smirks. She makes her way over to the bed, kneeling atop of Myrcella, a knee pressed against each of Myrcella's hips, her hands pinning Myrcella's arms to her side. She straddles Myrcella lightly, knowing how these kind of teasing movements make her blush. "But it's true," she says loftily, not knowing where this sense of control is coming from, but knowing it feels right. "You're my baby girl, right?"

Any objections Myrcella had previously held towards the pet name have since evaporated. "Yeah," she says all breathy, and her voice is so hot, Arya has half a mind to kiss her then and there but decides against it. She has other plans for her mouth right now. She smiles casually, devilishly tracing little circles in the crook of Myrcella's elbow.

"Arya, wha - "

"Get that pretty little outfit off," Arya orders, "and let me see you, baby."

Myrcella's smiles widens. "Only if you get naked too," she says slyly.

Arya laughs. "In due time, baby," she says, not wanting to miss a second of the show that is before her.

Myrcella shrugs off her little pink t-shirt, shimmies off her denim jeans until she's in just her underwear, golden laced bra and matching panties, probably the sexiest underwear Arya has seen her in.

She inches off her back, giving Arya room to unhook her bra and fling it across the room. "I love your tits," Arya says, running a hand along the swell of Myrcella's chest, tracing one pretty pink nipple with her fingertips.

"Romantic as always," Myrcella quips then stills and gasps as Arya applies further pressure to her left nipple.

"Don't be cheeky baby girl," Arya says lightly. She lowers herself down, continuing to circle Myrcella's left nipple between her deft fingers, and takes the other in her mouth. Everything about Myrcella's breasts are perfect, and the little noises of contentment she emits when Arya takes them in her mouth is everything. She removes her hand from Myrcella's chest and lowers it until it's resting above the crux between Myrcella's toned golden thighs.

Myrcella sighs. "Arya," she whines, almost petulantly. "You know what I need."

Arya is almost tempted to make Myrcella beg for it, all big blue eyes and pleading words. It would be hot, but Arya has her own desires to attend to, and more than anything right now, she wants her tongue in between her girlfriend's legs.

"I know baby girl," she says and briefly leans down to kiss Myrcella on the lips before she crawls down her body, leaving a lazy trail kisses down her abdomen before she's nestled before her legs.

She smiles appreciatively. "You've shaved," she notes, drinking in the site of her girlfriend, pink and bare and glistening wet.

"Arya," Myrcella whines again, drawing out the syllables. "Hurry up."

Arya laughs at that. "Can't I admire your pussy, baby? It's just so pretty." She drags a finger along it, the light touch making Myrcella gasp. "All for me."

"All for you," Myrcella echoes in earnest. "Arya, please - "

Arya cuts her off in a single swoop, ducking down so that she's perfectly poised to bury her tongue in Myrcella's wetness. She nips and bites lightly at the inside of the thighs, the way she knows Myrcella likes it - loves it even, if your little moans are anything to go by. She intentionally takes her time, licking and sucking before she gets her mouth on Myrcella's clit, knowing fine well that this will drive her girlfriend to the edge.

She uses her fingers and tongue alike to fuck Myrcella through her orgasm, her girlfriend's heightened moans going straight to the pool of wetness that is building up newer new Arya's own thighs.

When Myrcella has come, and is collapsed on the bed, breathing shallowly, Arya crawls up to join her. "That was fun," she comments lightly, ignoring the persistent throbbing in her own legs so as to admire her girlfriend.

Myrcella grins. "That's an understatement." She pauses. "Where did all that stuff come from? The baby girl stuff, and the control?"

Arya shrugs. "I don't know. It just kind of came to me on the spot. Do you like it?"

"Like it?" Myrcella echoes. "Arya, that was pretty much one of the hottest things I've ever experienced. And I walked in on your sister and Margaery Tyrell getting it on."

Arya shoves her playfully. "Gross! I told you to stop bringing that up. Ugh. I could do without ever being reminded of Sansa's sex life again." They lapse into a playful silence, Arya gently running her fingers through Myrcella's curls.

"How is she anyway?" Myrcella asks, after a few seconds. "Is college going okay for her?"

"She loves it," Arya says. "She says the weather's always great and she gets to see Jon and Robb on campus all the time. Her and Margaery are still sickeningly adorable. Seriously, one of them'll be proposing any day soon."

"You could be maid of honour," Myrcella teases. "In a pretty pink dress. Bows and all."

Arya snorts. "You'd have a better chance of getting my brothers into that than me." She pauses. "I just realised we forgot to lock the door."

"Not really an issue," Myrcella says with a shrug. "My dad's probably too drunk to climb the stairs. And our brothers are way too invested in each other."

Arya pulls a face. "Once again. Gross." She hesitates before continuing. "How are things anyway? With your dad I mean?"

Myrcella rolls her eyes. "The usual really. He drinks a lot then blacks out. Usually ends up breaking something. He nearly threw a plate at Tommen's head this morning."

Arya grimaces. "That's horrible."

"I know," says Myrcella tiredly. "I know we could report him and he'd lose all custody but that'd mean we'd end up leaving with mum permanently, which is a whole other kind of hell."

"I still think you should both move into my place," Arya says. "For the record."

Myrcella smiles sadly. "I wish it were that easy. I'm almost afraid to be leaving Tommen alone next year when I leave for college. God only knows how he'll put up with the two of them by himself."

"If they so much as lay a hand on him Rickon will contend with them personally," Arya says, which isn't so much a joke as it is a promise.

"My parents vs Rickon Stark," Myrcella laughs. "I'd pay to see that."

Arya's phone beeps from her bag on the floor, and as she checks her notifications a grin breaks out on her face. "Brilliant," she says. "Gendry just asked if he could have my shift tomorrow morning. I'm a free woman until the day after next."

Myrcella grins and trails an arm under Arya's shirt, her perfectly trimmed fingernails ghosting across Arya's abs. "You fancy staying the night? I believe I have a favour of sorts to return.

Arya grins. "I think I can deal with that." 

**Author's Note:**

> i love feedback <3


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